


The London Season

by raelee514



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: M/M, Prequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 17:52:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11109771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raelee514/pseuds/raelee514
Summary: What happened in that season of madness?





	The London Season

**Author's Note:**

> Stand alone at the moment but might be expanded upon.

Philip was trying not to appear distracted as he dined with Lady Grantham and her two daughters. It was his duty to pay attention the elder daughter. A beauty he would admit but she didn’t hold a candle to the young footman serving the meal. He made a motion to indicate he wanted more wine and the young man appeared swiftly at his side and poured the wine with efficiency. Which was a disappointment because it meant he was gone before Philip finished his perusal of his cheekbones. 

“Philip,” his mother tone was chastising. He looked up and saw the look in her eyes. He hoped she hadn’t pinpointed why he’d fallen into his thoughts. 

“Quite sorry mother. I fear I have a habit of daydreaming when I shouldn’t,” he told Mary Crawley with a smile. His mother’s expression relaxed and he clenched his jaw. He was annoyed with her scheming. His mother had set this up, he’d wanted nothing to do with it. Mary Crawley wasn’t even free, everyone knew it, but his mother was always trying to think ahead.

“But suppose something happens, suppose that entail could be broken, Philip. Mary Crawley would be a wonderful match.” Her voice echoed in his head and he stopped himself from rolling his eyes. He knew he would have to settle down someday. He knew he would have to find an heiress but he wasn’t ready to do it now. He was young and he was in no hurry to start a life of lies. 

Philip eyes found the footman again, he stood behind Lady Grantham. He was quite handsome, quite possibly the most handsome man Philip seen in his life. His bone structure was exquisite and didn’t at all suit a man who was stuck in the dregs of service. He was simply too handsome to be a footman, Philip chastised himself. That was a silly thought, yet it remained on his mind as he raked his eyes over the man’s face. Realizing he was perhaps staring Philip forced his eyes away. If he wasn’t careful his mother would realize what held his attention. She had eyes like a hawk and was quite fed up with his appetites and been making clearer and clearer that it was time for him to grow up and put it behind him.

He was in no hurry to grow up. It sounded frightfully dull to him. Philip finished up the course on his plate and drank down the last of his wine. Looking up he saw the others weren’t quite done yet with their courses. He thought about asking for more wine. It was within his right and it wouldn’t be unexpected. But he knew why he was doing it and he’d already used it once and it might be smarter to wait for whatever drink dessert arrived with — as it always did. 

“More wine, Your Grace?” 

Philip looked up from the glass and right at the footman. He was looking right at him with an intense focus, and Philip felt his cheeks heat. He found himself nodding, not at all trusting his voice. The footman walked around the table and poured the glass to the appropriate level. Philip found his eyes on his profile the whole time, thinking about how he wanted to unravel his white bow tie and see his neck. 

“If that is all, Your Grace?” The footman’s voice was perfectly professional, the words were perfectly normal but Philip heard something else. He looked at the man’s face and hoped he was right. 

“For now…” he said and carefully trailed off, giving his own cue. 

“Thomas, Your Grace.” 

“Thomas,” Philip said and he liked how the name felt in his mouth. 

Thomas gave him a subtle nod. It was so subtle, Philip almost doubted he saw it, were his yearnings making his mind go awry? He watched Thomas return to his station, no one around them even noticed their interaction. He watched him fall into position. Where he was stand perfectly still and ready to wait on the family and their guests. His posture was perfect and his shoulders strong. Philip realized he was quite enamored with him as he eyes fell on red red lips. He almost licked his own and looked down at his wine. If he was reading the signs correctly he could kiss those lips. 

He pondered it as he took a generous sip of the wine. A footman, was it wise? A footman, it was way below his station, it was quite a deviation from the others he been with. Men of some station, men with something to lose, like Philip, if they were ever found out. It was fun, it served it purpose, but it wasn’t….

Exciting. 

Philip always imagined a true love affair, he often thought it might happen after he did his duty and provided an heir. The safety of that to fall back on would be the smart decision. He could find a real love, or at the least someone with who he could have passion. He felt passion once before, briefly at Eton, but it all faded away to nothing as soon as they stepped outside of the school. Philip didn’t even remember his name. 

He swallowed another sip of wine and dared to look in Thomas’ direction and caught him looking right at him. Immediately he averted his eyes but Philip watched his skin redden over his cheek. It was the truth then, he wasn’t alone in this attraction. He looked at Thomas’ red cheeks and wondered how deep and red could that flush go? Philip needed to know. 

“I would like to wash my hands before dessert,” Philip said, politely to the women at the table. He stood up and started for the door but paused. “Alas, I don’t quite know the way…”

“Thomas, please show the Duke the way,” Cora Grantham said without thought. 

“Of course, Your Ladyship.” Thomas left his position and met Philip’s eyes for the briefest of moments before ducking his head. “This way, Your Grace.” 

They walked in silence. Thomas leading the way up a set of stairs and down a hallway. Philip quite loved watching him in motion. He moved with a grace he never seen in a member of staff before — again the notion this man wasn’t meant to be a servant ran through his mind. He watched how his shoulders moved and wished to peel off all of his layers. His heart was beating loudly in his ears when the finally stopped at a door. It was ajar and Philip saw the fancy lavatory that looked much like the one in his own home. 

“Will that be all?” Thomas asked him.

Philip looked down the hallway, in both directions and questioned his plan, a sudden worry about reading it all wrong coming over him. He had to be careful, this was madness, his mother would realize if they were gone to long together. 

“Oh.” Thomas voice was low and Philip thought maybe he wasn’t meant to hear it. “Very well, Your Grace.” 

Philip looked up and he was starting to walk away and his reached out quickly and grabbed Thomas hand. “Don’t.”

Thomas froze and looked back at him.

Philip sought out his eye contact and he felt something low in his belly. He pulled on Thomas hand and walked into the room he’d been brought too backwards. Thomas followed him inside and Philip let go of his hand and walked toward him, backing him up against the door as it closed. 

“Does it lock?”

“Yes,” Thomas said and his chest was heaving, his eyes were wide. 

Philip smiled at him and locked it. He reached out and traced his fingers down Thomas’ cheekbone. “You’re beautiful,” he breathed out. 

“I…” Thomas stammered. 

Philip chuckled because until this moment he thought the footman had been so surefooted and now he looked as blown as part as he felt inside. Philip’s fingers ran over Thomas’ mouth. “We have no time,” Philip whispered. 

“Very little.”

“Then this is all we can do,” Philip whispered and leaned forward, going onto his toes — something which excited him and kissed Thomas. Thomas surged forward into it, his hands coming up and cupping Philip’s face. They brushed their lips together and then Thomas licked Philip’s lower lip and Philip groaned. He grabbed onto Thomas’ shoulders and allowed his tongue into his mouth. When they broke apart they were both breathing harshly and Thomas hands went out and started to expertly fix Philip’s appearance. Philip stood and allowed it, watching his hands and wishing they were on his naked body. 

As Thomas started stroking against his shoulders at dust Philip didn’t see he grabbed his hands and found his eyes. “I want to see you.”

Thomas eyes widened and his mouth fell open. “Yes, Your Grace.”

“That won’t do at all… Call me Philip.”

“Philip?” Thomas looked incredulous.

“With the things I want to do to you,” Philip leaned in to say it into his ear. “I don’t want you saying anything but my given name.”

“Bloody hell,” Thomas swore and his accent thickened. 

“We must go back, but I will find a way to see you.”

Thomas nodded and turned to the mirror. He started straightening out his own appearance, quickly and with ease. Philip watched his hands and wished again for them to be on his skin. 

“I’ll go ahead, count to twenty and follow me,” Thomas said and again his accent was thicker, his words quicker and Philip liked it. 

“Count to twenty.”

Thomas nodded, turned but didn’t move he was looking at Philip. His eyes were dilated and they moved slowly up and down Philip. It was making heat float through him and into places he couldn’t afraid to have more blood rush into. “Go, Thomas,” he said.

Thomas nodded and then he was gone. 

~~~

Philip stood in the shadows near the back entrance to the Crawley’s London home. He wore a hat and hoped the suit he had chosen looked ordinary enough for him not to stand out. He was waiting for Thomas, who hopefully gotten the letter he’d paid the boy at the post office to deliver. He put his hands in his pockets and breathed out through his nose. This was crazy, he’d snuck out of his own home and it was going on midnight. Yet he was on the street, heart in his throat waiting for a footman. A footman. 

But he remembered his mouth, his lips and his tongue. Philip sighed at the memory of that kiss, of having him pressed against the door and he knew he was making the right decision. This wasn’t something he could walk away from, he couldn’t walk away from Thomas. Perhaps it wasn’t rational but rational was boring and he had a lifetime for it — but he had little time with this boy, this man, that made him feel things he once thought were lies meant to make stories entertaining. 

He heard a door open, a creak in the quiet of the late night. He held his breath and soon he saw a head coming up the steps from Crawley’s. He appeared in cap and a grey suit, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He looked across the street and Philip stepped into the light of a streetlamp. Thomas looked at him and grinned. Philip felt like his heart had stopped, he motioned for Thomas to walk with him. They fell into stride, side by side. 

“Your…” Thomas started but Philip stopped walking and moved to face him. 

“Philip. I meant it, I don’t…” Philip stared at his face and reached out to touch it before remembering where they were. He dropped his hand. “Philip, please.”

“Philip,” Thomas repeated and a smirk graced his features. 

“There, that’s right,” Philip smiled. 

“I have to be back by three.”

“Oh, yes, of course…” he pulled out his pocket watch. It wasn’t much time, it felt like so little time. “Follow me,” he started walking quickly. 

Thomas followed him, keeping pace and Philip started to think he was walking too slowly for him and remembered how different their lives were. Thomas was a servant and he was a Duke. He slowed down his step and looked at him. His profile, sharp nose and curved red smile, Philip felt like he was too handsome and he wanted to touch cheek and feel the edge of his cheek. His skin was porcelain, he was nearly pretty. He was beautiful. Words usually meant for women but they suited Thomas. Philip knew what he was attracted to and it’d never been a pretty woman over a handsome man. But Thomas was far more handsome than any other man. 

Philip felt quite mad. 

He stopped when they reached their location and rapped hard on the wood door. They were in a back alley and it’d started to rain. As Philip realized he should’ve brought an umbrella one was opened over him and he felt Thomas’ move closer to him. Philip looked at him and to the umbrella.

“Bloody servant, aren’t I?” Thomas said in his thick northern accent.

Philip rapped on the door again. 

It opened and a woman with a hook nose poked out. “Well?” she snapped impatient.

“Milk and bread.” 

She pushed the door so it would open completely and walked away down the hall. Philip stepped in and Thomas followed him. “Where are we?”

“Underground club, know people who know people — nothing will get out.”

Thomas nodded. “What’s it called. This club?”

“The Drake.”

He whistled. “Heard of it, never could get any information.”

“Well, I’ll tell you all you want,” Philip said and he grabbed his hand. 

Thomas looked down at their hands and his mouth dropped open. Philip smirked at it and pulled him along. Up the stairs to the club but he passed by the tables, the bar and the stage were a man in woman’s dress was performing. Thomas was looking around with wide eyes but his eyes kept returning to Philip. Philip walked up another set of stairs and looked at the man behind a small desk and held out his hand. 

“Five,” the man said in a bored voice and handed him a key.

Philip picked up his pace, the key meant the room was right there and he finally gave into the impatience that was firing through his veins. He unlocked the door and they stepped inside. He locked it again and tossed the keys on a table. The lights were on but they were low and when he turned he found Thomas standing in a shadow. He held his hat but was looking around the room, his expression on readable but his eyes landed on the bed. 

Philip walked up to him and plucked the hat out of his hand and threw it on the table with the keys. He took off his own and then he reached out and started to pull at Thomas’ suit jacket. 

“I can.” Thomas reached up to take it off himself.

“No, no…” Philip argued and he kept at it. He stripped Thomas down, every button and ever layer. Until he was in nothing but a pair of white underthings. Philip leaned in and started to kiss his neck, long and porcelain. Thomas’s back in the wall and he wrapped his hands around Philips neck and sought out his mouth. Philip licked his jawline before letting him press their mouth together. They kissed and Thomas reached out, blindly, yet managed to undress with Philip with efficiency that spoke of his profession. But it felt nothing like when his Valet Henry helped him dress or undress. Henry didn’t lick his tongue across the roof of his mouth, or push his hands down his pants and grab at his ass. Something Philip returned and they were on the bed, both nearly naked and wrapped around each other. 

Philip found himself leaning over him and he paused to just catch his breath because he was going to need more of it. He pushed his hand into Thomas’ dark hair. It was thick and black and it flopped into his eyes when it wasn’t pinned to his head with pomade. He looked more beautiful as a mess, Philip decided. “Must keep you mussed,” he said. 

“That wouldn’t be proper,” Thomas smirked.

“And you care? Do you?” Philip pressed kisses to his jawline again and looked up into his eyes. 

“Not much, no,” he admitted his eyes closing as Philip started to his throat. His head moved back, granting Philip access and he licked his way down his Adam’s apple. 

“Philip…” Thomas moaned.

“Hmmmm…” he grazed Thomas nipple with his teeth. 

“Shit… sorry,” Thomas groaned. 

“Sorry?” Philip laughed and did it again. 

“Shit… I… you’re…” Thomas leaned up on his elbows and Philip stared into those eyes. There were blown up, Thomas licked his red lips wet but Philip saw him thinking. 

“What is it?” Philip asked and licked a trail back up Thomas’ jaw. 

“Oh…” Thomas moaned. “You’re a Duke.”

Philip chuckled. 

“Funny you think it?”

“A bit, when it’s you who made the first move.”

“You were being right obvious about it…” Thomas said but he was blushing. 

“Not enough to warrant that move. At the table, with the Countess,” Philip moved to the sided but started trailing his fingers through Thomas’ chest hair. 

“Felt like the risk was worth the possible reward.” Thomas grinned and turned toward him, lunging up and kissing him. It was with force, his tongue against Philip’s mouth and Philip opened for him. Soon he was the only on his back with Thomas over him. They kissed, and kissed. Thomas broke away and leaned back down and started to kiss him more softly. 

He never did this, never, he never slowed it down. He never let himself hear himself over the rush of want and need. He thought to put this back on track, to flip them over and be on top and take him in his mouth. He thought it but as Thomas’ tongue licked into his mouth again instead he found himself gripping one of Thomas’ hand tightly and the slide together, legs tangling and his other hand when into Thomas’ hair. 

They both hummed and it took longer but somehow Philip did end up back over Thomas. He stared down at him ran a hand down the slope of his cheek. “Why did you risk it?”

Thomas stared at him and smirked. 

“What?”

“You’re a Duke.”

Philip raised an eyebrow.

“And….” Thomas looked at their hands and Philip realized they were still holding on to the other. Thomas lifted Philip’s to his mouth and started to kiss it, knuckle by knuckle. “You’re handsome and… you were looking at me. Liked that I did.”

“You weren’t even sure…”

“Sure enough… lost my courage when we were alone for a bit is all,” Thomas looked away from him but his lips stayed against his hand. 

“Hmmm…” Philip kissed him and then after a moment started to trail down his throat again, nipping at the sensitive skin, finding his way to Thomas collar bone. “Should I worry…”

“About?”

“A footman knowing my dark secret,” Philip grazed his teeth over his nipple, ready for the reaction, he quickly did it again.

Thomas leaned up a bit on his elbows and smirked. “Think you be disappointed if I said no.”

“Clever.”

“Very,” Thomas’ smirk grew. 

Philip shook his head and sucked his nipple into his mouth. 

“Shit… Philip…”

“Shhh…” he reached up and put his hand over Thomas’ mouth but instead what he got was his fingers inside Thomas mouth. He moaned against his skin, as he sucked on them. He found the edge of the cloth that was keeping all of him from Thomas. He started to pull it down but he looked up and their eyes locked. Thomas was staring right at him unabashedly, eyes wide and lips parted. He rolled his hips, lifting them up and Philip was able to pull them off of him. He felt something pound in his chest, when it got to this point… this was the point where people looked away and closed their eyes. Wanting it but fearing it. His own heart was pounding, he always knew, was always so conscious of that if anyone knew, if anyone found out — he would be ruined. He wouldn’t go to jail — not him, he was a Duke — but he’d still be ruined.

Philip met Thomas eyes though because the boldness drew him right in and that was what it was — wasn’t it. What made him stand up at the Granthams and come up with the ruse for them to be alone. Only long enough for a kiss. That was why he wrote the letter and brought Thomas here to this place where he could be with him. 

He looked away from the bold stare and looked down at the curved erection that was against Thomas’ stomach, wet tip and it looked the perfect size to wrap his mouth around. He wrapped a hand around it first and heard Thomas whimper. He looked up and he was watched it, staring at Philip’s hand, and Philip started to stroke him, thumb over the head and he went slow — he never went slow. 

He went slow and watched Thomas watch his hand. It was the most erotic thing he’d ever seen. He watched him watch and stroked until his patience broke and he bent down and wrapped his mouth around him. Thomas hips thrust up but Philip was ready for it, his hand on his hip, shoving him down and he started swallowing and pulling away. 

“Philip…” Thomas hands wound into his hair. 

Philip swallowed around him and he tasted amazing and his tongue licked out for more of him, rolled over the head of his cock and he swallowed as he far down as he could, as he dared. He moaned around him and Thomas kept saying his name. 

“Philip, Philip, Philip….” He twisted his hands in Philip’s hair. 

Philip moved so he could look up at Thomas as he sucked up and down his length and he was watching. His eyes were wide, his teeth had caught his lower lip and he watching Philip suck his cock. 

“Philip, I’m…”

Philip wrapped his lips tighter around him and felt it before Thomas pulsed out into his mouth, and Philip moaned around him and swallowed it up. He never considered it before, he hadn’t considered now it was a given that he would, he thought. He licked and swallowed and when he came up for air, Thomas’ hands were on his shoulders and pulling him up toward them and their mouths met. 

“Hmmm,” Thomas hummed as he licked into Philip’s mouth tasting himself. 

“Shit,” Philip moaned and an odd sound filled the room.

Thomas stopped kissing him and sighed into his shoulder. 

“What?”

Thomas picked up a watch, Philip hadn’t seen him put on the table by the bed. “Alarm clock, I have to get back to the house.”

Philip shook his head. “No.”

“I have to, Philip. It’s me job.” 

Philip opened his mouth to argue but realized he couldn’t.

Thomas started to get dressed.

Philip watched him. “Tomorrow.”

Thomas froze where he was and looked at him. “What?”

“Again tomorrow, and the night after that and the night after that until Yorkshire gets it wish and takes you away from me…” Philip got up as he talked and walked over to Thomas. “Be with me until the London Season is over.”

“I…” Thomas blushed and Philip leaned and kissed his cheek. 

“Say yes, Thomas.”

“Yes,” he whispered and his mouth found Philip’s.

**Author's Note:**

> More Alike soon, promise.


End file.
